


Feverish

by pixie_rings



Series: Per Ardua Ad Astra [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Pollen, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 12:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8248013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixie_rings/pseuds/pixie_rings
Summary: Allura and Shiro end up separated from the others on an alien planet, and something peculiar is happening...





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on chapter four of Acid on the Horizon, slow as it might be. I need to get some porn out of my system, though.

“This place is terrible!”

For the first time, Allura was envious of Shiro's shorn hair, as the thick tangle of branches caught her bun and tugged at her scalp for the umpteenth time. He doubled back to help her, fingers deft and gentle, and finally she was free again. She groaned.

“I can't wait to be out of here.”

Being separated from the others, chased by a ravenous crested oltagan and then getting lost in a forest so thick it was impossible to navigate wasn't exactly how she had envisioned their short sojourn on planet Dnari, but here they were. It was humid, claustrophobic and almost dark under the thick canopy, and the planet's natural magnetism was blocking their communication wavelengths.

“Me too,” Shiro said. He held out a hand, and she took it, feeling calmer already. “We'll rest soon.”

It took them another ten minutes of walking through the dense undergrowth before they noticed a light up ahead. Allura breathed a sigh of relief as they reached a clearing.

The light from the twin suns above was warm and buttery, the air still, sweet-smelling and thick with a golden pollen. Allura breathed deeply and set herself down on the springy grass with a sigh. It was a quiet place, with occasional birdsong, and the sun on her face was pleasant.

Shiro sat beside her, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out in front of him, head tilted back. He looked so handsome, the sunlight softening the edge of his jaw and the profile of his nose. Allura bit her lip.

She couldn't stop _staring_ at him. She always found him attractive, but for some reason, her body longed for him in a way she felt she couldn't control. His thick arms, broad chest, strong legs... she just wanted to rip his armour off and devour him, bite into his flesh and take him inside her until she was breaking apart. Between her legs pulsed, and she drew her knees together, feeling a deep flush spread from her neck up to her cheeks.

She scrubbed at her face, annoyed at herself. What, by the stars, had come over her? She could usually control her desire, keep it under lock and key until they were in decidedly more private quarters.

“Is it just me, or is it hotter?” he asked hoarsely, plucking at his collar and fanning himself. His own face was ruddy, sweat pearling on his brow, and he ran a hand through his hair.

“Yes,” she breathed, and she winced at how sultrily the words escaped her lips. She hadn't intended to sound so breathless. He looked at her, and she noticed how blown his pupils were. He licked his lips, and she stared at them, catching her own on her teeth. Her whole body thrummed with a violent, insatiable need to have him against her, her breath becoming ragged. She could see his chest moving more deeply, fists clenching, his cock half-hard.

They lunged at each in unison, using more teeth than lips as they kissed. Allura hooked her legs around his waist, grinding against him, desperate for friction against her aching cunt. He was rock-hard against her buttocks, hips jerking upwards, hands scrambling for the closure of her combat suit. He got it halfway down before tearing at it, diving for her neck to suck and bite, and she didn't care as it ripped and his hands squeezed at her exposed breasts.

Having to pull away from him to wrench his armour off him was sheer torture, but once his breastplate and gauntlets were discarded whoever-knew-where, she could work on tearing his own flight suit off him, revealing a delicious expanse of pale, scar-slashed skin. She raked her fingers down his chest, pinching at his nipples, pressing herself back against him to leave bitten marks across his shoulders and collarbone. She continued to buck against him, his still-clothed cock sliding at her damp cunt through her suit. She'd never felt so painfully, agonisingly _empty_ before, practically dripping.

“Fuck me,” she gasped against his sweat-slicked skin. “Oh, Shiro, my love, _fuck me_.”

“Oh God, _Allura_ ,” he groaned, voice strained. He arched, allowing her to shove down the bottom half of his flight suit and underwear, his cock springing free, already slippery with precome. His hands went to the tatters at her waist and dragged them down, exposing her, fingers digging hard into her buttocks, squeezing. His teeth found her peaked nipple as her hand found his rigid length, and he slid against her, cursing until he finally slipped inside.

She saw stars. Her head tossed back, every inch of her hypersensitive to the way he sheathed himself in her, _thick_ and _hard_ and _long_ and _hot_ and oh-so- _satisfying_ , she moaned, eyes slipping closed as she savoured the glide of his cock within her.

And then he was _moving_. She shuddered, clenching around him, meeting his every thrust in a starved, savage pace. He pitched her forward, spreading her on the soft grass, caging her with his arms, and taking what he needed. Which was exactly what _she_ needed, as well: every one of her nerves was on fire, and she laughed, breathlessly, wantonly, her hands looped around his neck, fingers digging into his flesh, as he pounded into her.

It didn't take long for her to ripple with orgasm, clit untouched as she screamed, driving him as deep into her as he could go. He followed with almost a broken shout, louder than she'd ever heard him, stilling as he released into her.

But, breathless as she was, she still needed more. He was still hard, still inside her, and she used her strength to flip him, straddling him, gazing down at his dark eyes and flushed face. She planted her hands on his chest and set a steady counterpoint, picking up speed, hair caught on her parted lips, fingernails dragging welts on his torso. His hands left bruises on her hips as he slammed up into her, groaning out his pleasure in time with hers. They met like the ocean and the shore, a constant movement, heady and natural and perfect.

Her second orgasm came over her like a tidal wave, making her tremble, and he came in unison again, arched up and pouring into her.

She moaned, almost sobbing, when she realised she still wanted more. He didn't soften, eyes glazed, panting for breath. She let him manhandle her down again, whimpering at the momentary loss of him before he plunged back into her, where he belonged, legs hooked over his shoulders, arse bouncing on his thighs. She drove her shoulders back into the ground for leverage, fingers caught in her own hair, head thrashing. He was groaning out her name, eyes closed, hands tight on her shins against his chest. She was tight like this, so deliciously tight, and she could feel his heat and hardness twice as much as before as he pounded into her, again and again, his movements unfaltering, unwavering, unyielding.

He gave into another climax with a broken cry, and her core pulsed, milking him dry as she sobbed his name, tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

“More, please _more_ ,” she begged, the entirety of her still hot and throbbing. He nodded breathlessly, meeting her gaze, and slipped from her, giving her just enough time to get on her knees before driving home again. The sounds were obscene, wet and filthy, and she _felt_ filthy, as well, so perfectly, wonderfully _filthy_ : his hands were on her hips, his chest pressed against her back as her fingers found desperate purchase in the dirt. Being on her knees like this drove him deeper, as deep as he could go, and she could feel herself breaking apart, a mass of exposed nerve-endings, unable to do anything but feel. It was almost too much, ecstasy bordering on pain.

He buried his face in her hair, her name falling like rain from his lips, as they went rigid together, her cunt quaking and legs trembling as he came again, dry this time, having nothing left to give.

And finally, _finally_ , she felt sated, as if a vicious beast inside her had finally been tamed. They collapsed against the ground together, panting, naked and damp and sticky and she caught herself laughing, eyes slipping closed.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered against her neck. She hummed, finding his hand and threading their fingers together.

“I have no idea what just happened,” she said. “But I greatly enjoyed it.”

She felt his softening cock slip from her, her cunt raw, still quivering with aftershocks. She'd never been fucked so thoroughly before, and even this afterglow, his arms around her and their legs tangled together, was in itself satisfying.

“Same,” he said, chuckling hoarsely. “You were so good, babe, so good.”

She giggled, feeling her ears redden. Her muscles felt like jelly, her limbs like lead, and her head like a dead weight, but stars above, she felt as if she were floating.

* * *

Fixing themselves up was an entirely different matter. They had dozed off at some point, wrapped in each other, until the twins suns were lower than either of them would have liked. She picked up the torn remnants of the upper part of her combat suit with a sigh.

“We were somewhat... careless, it seems,” she said, eyeing what was left of Shiro's own flight suit. Had she really been that desperate? Blushing, she slowly pulled on the lower half of her suit, still, thankfully, intact, and tied it off. The small of her back ached, reminding her exactly of what had transpired, and her blush deepened.

“You need a shirt,” Shiro said. He stepped closer to her, and she could see the bruises and the scratches all over his neck and chest, his body still heavy with the scent of sex. “Could you move your hair?”

She did as she was told, and he tied the scraps of his shirt around her in a surprisingly functional wrap – not the most modest of garments, but it would do. As she let her hair fall again, she reached out and caressed his chest, tracing the marks she'd left.

“Forgive my... impetuosity,” she mumbled. Though his cheeks were pink, his grin was mischievous.

“Hey, I like it when you're rough,” he said, his hands circling her waist. She stifled a giggle, reaching up to pull him down against her lips, moving their tongues languidly together. There was a tired frisson of interest from her body, but she ignored it, more than content to simply kiss him.

* * *

They eventually found their way back to the Castle of Lions. The other four Paladins and Coran were there, waiting.

“We were about to come looking for... you...” Lance's voice faltered, biting down hard on his lips as he looked them up and down. Hunk was pointedly looking everywhere but at the two of them, his face burning. Coran closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long, moustache-ruffling sigh.

“Whoa, did you guys get attacked, or something?” Pidge asked worriedly. “You look terrible!”

Allura felt as if her face was on fire. They had appeared hours after they should have, completely and utterly wrecked. Though Allura couldn't see herself, she knew she looked just as bad as Shiro did, with his bare, abused torso, carrying his breastplate in one hand and his gauntlets under the other arm. In fact, she mused, she probably looked worse, wearing Shiro's torn flight suit as a shirt, half of her own suit torn away, and her hair a complete and utter mess. She was probably also peppered with love bites, and the bruises on her hips peeked out over the edge of her improvised trousers.

“Yeah, there was definitely an attack of _some_ sort,” Keith said, raising an eyebrow wryly, and Lance burst out laughing, doubling over, using Hunk to keep himself from toppling to the ground. Keith pressed his hand to his mouth, stifling his laughter as best he could.

“Huh?” Pidge looked completely bewildered.

“Quit it, you two,” Shiro barked, his face as red as Allura's felt, striding straight past them and into the castleship. Allura quickly hurried after him, biting a knuckle to stop herself from giggling. Pidge's reaction had been adorably priceless, even though they would never hear the end of Lance's teasing and innuendoes.

They stopped halfway down the corridor to the dining room, and exchanged a look.

“We look terrible,” Shiro said, rubbing his face, unable to stop a sheepish grin from spreading over his face. Allura nodded, biting her lip to keep her laughter under control.

“I think you two are in need of, ah, freshening up?”

They both jumped. Coran was standing there, hands behind his back, eyebrows raised. They both flushed.

“Yes, I think... I think some sort of bath would be in order,” Allura mumbled, unable to hold Coran's gaze.

“I did forget to tell you it was raxshal pollen season,” he admitted. “I am surprised, though, that it has a similar effect on humans as it does Alteans.”

Shiro and Allura both stared at him.

“Wait? Pollen season?”

“Effect on humans?”

“Coran!”

But Coran had turned on his heel and was already leaving.


End file.
